


Fade Into You

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gap Filler Mid-Season 2, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-12
Updated: 2007-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's at a crossroads... and drunk (a little)... and he's had enough...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade Into You

**Author's Note:**

> I had written a snippet of this fic (not gonna tell you where it is) and it was supposed to work somewhere within the LIFE IN PA Universe (pre-fic 'verse, so to say), for Brian and Michael's budding or growing relationship. Instead, I kept stalling and stopping, coming back to find this damn thing in my FILES (no, not my computer files, but my handwritten files for my fan-fics)... and it kept nigglin', an' a wigglin' at my brain to DO SOMETHING with it. THIS... is THAT "something".

He was waiting for the right moment, hiding in shadows and in the distance. If he smoked, he would've lit a cigarette, giving off the air of a suave, mysterious stranger, lurking in the thick mist of early morning fog. Instead, he looked how he always did, huddled into himself, beneath a light weight jacket, having worn the wrong clothes - how he usually did - for the end of a long, hard day. His hands were tucked deep within his coat pockets, balled into tiny fists, his body shivering from inside out, in the chilled breeze.

He'd been enraptured by eyeballing the activity, two stories above him, through the array of lined windows.

First, the smaller man, roaming about, approached the view, naked as the day he was born.

The window ledge didn't allow a scope of lower extremities, so one HAD to assume privacy was believed by the people inside, which was cause for the bare skin. The two men who lived there had either been sleeping or fucking their brains out. Most likely... the latter.

The kitchen light was turned on, illuminating the rest of the living space. The simple action appeared to have woken, or sprinted, the second, taller, man into finally moving about, showing that HE was naked, as well.

The taller man wandered over to the windows, as if admiring the wide sweeping view of the city's landscape before sunrise. He stepped closer to one particular frame, holding back a sheer curtain to gaze down at the street and sidewalks below. He seemed to "look" for something, or someone, having a creepy idea he was being watched and wanting to get a peek at his voyeuristic admirer.

The watchful eyes, down below, peered from their perch, catching the modest stare. He drew further back into the darkness shrouding him. Even though he was well-hidden from eyesight, he still feared being seen. He couldn't take any chances.

He had talked himself in and out of being here quite a few times before actually showing up. Now, again, guilt raged and the mere thought of heavy consequences kept him from his next bold move. One hand was reaching to grip his cell phone, about ready to press one button. A single button to a number he knew by heart, that would start the ball rolling into a new adventure into an old way of life.

He had plenty of doubts... and a huge one was being displayed to him as he pondered what he should do...

The tall man never ventured far from the window. Didn't even turn his head as he began to have a conversation with the second man, from earlier. The tall man would send a quick glance over his bare shoulder, but twist back, with a knowing smirk on his face. His reflex so quick as if he feared missing one second of stare time.

 _What DID... the man THINK he knew?_

As seconds converted into minutes, the man outside grew more frustrated, the longer he waited. More at himself than what he was viewing as it unfolded, through the 2nd floor window. He knew exactly when to find "courage" again... the moment he saw two arms slip around the tall man, hands flowing over the bare muscular chest, skimming nipples and flat abdomen, drawing downward to grab onto... possibly, stroke... the growing erection. The tall man had to lean over, latching onto the outer molding of the window pane as a rush of ecstasy coursed through his body.

 _Weird..._ The man outside could actually *see* the vacancy in the distant features; the blank eyes and the numbed facial muscles. THAT was the very second he KNEW he had to DO SOMETHING... or run back to his own apartment, with his tail between his legs, marking down the moment as another bout of undisclosed rejection.

With hands quivering from feeling the depths of the approaching winter weather, the cell phone was brought out, flipped open and the digit was pressed to dial. He turned away from the vision above, unable to watch as he steeled his body to become strong and confident.

... he never even took a second or two - as usual - to wonder what the HELL he was getting himself into...

~*~*~*~*~

He COULD ignore the cell phone ringing. He'd done it before. Especially in the moments of seeking his own sexual release. But this was different. He didn't know HOW he knew. He only felt compelled to find his phone and answer it, killing the sound. His trousers were draped over a chair back, one pant leg precariously dangling over a chair arm.

Completely naked and hard as a rock, he stumbled over to pick up the cell phone from the flat surface the chair was placed under

"... 'lo...?"

He hadn't even bothered to glance at the LCD screen, his heart in his throat, clogging an ability of speech beyond one syllable.

 **_"... I'm in a taxi... on my way to you..."_   
**

"... aaaaannnnnd..."  
 ** _  
"... I NEED to speak to you..."_**

He could hear the rough desperation in the vocal tone, stressing the "need" portion.

 **_"... alone..."_   
**

He did a double-take, because it never failed to unravel him how well his habits could become so predictable. He never thought he was the kind of person to locate complacency and generate a "routine". Didn't bode well for a long-standing promiscuous homosexual lifestyle to become... monotonous.

He turned away, showing his back to the young man on his knees, on the hardwood flooring, still curious to who could be calling at this late... yet, so god-damn early... hour of the day.

"... it'll take me awhile..."

He spoke under his breath, pretending to show indifference to the caller.

There was a long pause, sounds of a hand covering the mouthpiece and taking deep breathes, like building a wall with solid red bricks. No one and nothing was going to impede the determination to proceed.

 **_"Get rid of him."_   
**

_How did one reply to THAT request? Wasn't a question... it was a harsh demand._

"I'm almost there... it's either by YOU... or by ME..."

There was a stretched out ache of silence. No words spoken. Not even a single breath taken... and then the line was dead.

"... mother... f**ker..."

 _WHAT? THE HELL?_

Brian stared down at the phone, unable to explain what had gotten into Michael.

 _Why had he called? What could they possibly "need" to discuss?_

 _... and WHY... at the butt-fuckin'-crack of dawn's early light?_

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Brian... Wha-...?" Justin wasn't even allowed to complete his thought, a simple question.

"YOU... need to go." Brian mumbled, twisting around, still staring at his cell phone. He was attempting to see if he'd missed an important call, a voice or a text message that Michael had left to explain this freaky randomness. Sounded like "Michael", but, strangely... NOT. Brian glanced up to see how quickly Justin wasn't moving to pack his shit and go. "Like... NOW... I'm not kidding." _Did he even have one of those parental "not kidding" faces?_

"I know you aren't." Justin's brow furrowed with befuddlement. He began to sit down on the flooring, crossing his legs and wrapping his arms about his kneecaps. Justin was used to Brian's distance, _but right at the moment of a fantastic blow job? What was wrong with Brian? Who had been on the other end of the call?_ "I DO live here, you know?" Sometimes he wondered if Brian remembered or not, liking the convenience of kicking him out several times for no reason. Occasionally just to show who was still in control.

"Yeah... I know. How can I forget?" Brian picked up the sturdy backpack and satchel, throwing clothes, strewn over the couch, in the direction of the bags. "But YOU don't pay rent... I DO." He hated having to explain himself. This was HIS place, HIS Loft. "Get your shit... all your fuckin' homework, for the day..." Brian gestured over to the dining room table that was littered with drawings and art tools. Too much of his Loft wasn't HIS anymore, everywhere he turned it was crowded with someone else's crap. "... an' leave. Go visit your girlfriend." Brian found the cordless phone under some piles of magazines. He tossed Justin the extension. "I don't care. I need you O-U-T... in the next 10-15 minutes." _Was that long enough to give Michael time to get here? By taxi? Where the HELL had he been before he called?_

Justin had to reach above his head, causing his bare bottom to slide off the floor, unbalancing himself, when he caught the cordless phone. "You're serious." He didn't have to look into Brian's face to hear the tension rising.

"Yes. I'm VERY fuckin' serious."

"But we were about to..." Justin knew it had been obvious WHAT they were about-... what HE was about to do, but... _seriously? That was IT? The sex was over?_

Brian tilted his head... just right, as he smirked. "... an' now... we aren't." He moved freely about the floor, heading into the kitchen to grab a fruit juice. Beer would be too tacky at this early hour. He thought about starting the coffee maker, but decided not to once he saw how fast Justin wasn't moving. Looks like someone needed help... or more incentive to leave. Brian remained on the other side of the breakfast bar, keeping the right amount of distance to allow his system to resettle back into calm, feeling his dick go soft. "I had a life before you showed up, Sunshine. It's not like you didn't know this would happen at one time or another." He took a quick gander at his answering machine, just to see if any lights were blinking or flashing at him.

"... I need to take a shower..." Justin could feel the bile rise in the back of his throat, a need to beg for some type of mercy... a reprieve. "... an' I'm not even finished with my class work for today." He pointed, with the phone in his hand, toward the dining room table. Justin had envisioned waking up in Brian's arms, both lazing the morning away, slowly rising and showering together, then sharing some breakfast, while he worked at the table as they ate.

"THAT... is not MY problem." Brian had placed the flat of his palm to his chest, then scratched at the center, scrunching up his nose. "Don't come cryin' to me, if your day gets shit on." He shrugged one shoulder. "Sorry... but.. such is life, you know?" Somehow he knew Justin didn't know that... or much of anything toward "life" experiences.

Justin finally got off the hardwood floor, trailing behind Brian. Brian was pacing across the Loft into the first doorway opening into his bedroom.

Justin matched him, from the second doorway. "Who is it?"

Brian opened his closet door, yanking out a fresh pair of well-washed jeans, pulling them over his bare legs, along his trim thighs and then painstakingly stuffing his flaccid length under the denim. He buttoned up the fly, turning to Justin across the bed. Brian bent down to grab for the sheets and comforter, placing them back on the mattress, needing something to do to avoid chatting with Justin, avoiding the prominent issue. He knew Justin wasn't asking what he thought he was asking. They weren't THAT type of "couple", neither having claim on the other.

"Who's on their way is none of your business."

Justin folded his arms, after setting the phone extension on the low dresser unit. "It's that guy." He could recall the night vividly, when watching Brian, with another man, had almost made him cum as hard as being with him, on their own. "... the one you met at Babylon the other night, isn't it?" He was stuck between a frown and a smirk. He really didn't know what to feel or what Brian would take as genuine.

Brian kept his mouth shut, letting Justin believe what his youthful mind wanted to conjure. "... so what if it is?" He knew anger was being held back. If not anger, then a desire to show how much "better" Justin was then any other male on Liberty Avenue.

Justin planted his feet solidly apart, tucking his hands under his arms now, as if gearing up for "battle". He didn't feel uncomfortable in his nakedness. Brian was oddly averting his gaze an awful lot, tempted to peek at his half-hard cock... or so Justin could only assume.

Brian wouldn't look at Justin because he wasn't trying to be sucked back into an erotic moment to be culminated with another round of filling sexual appetites. Michael had called... needing to talk. _Needing... HIM?_ Brian wanted to focus on ONE man. Justin's time, and use, had been finished hours ago. Brian was attempting to draw a line, of sorts, to show Justin sex wasn't the answer to everything. Which was difficult to prove with sweet young lips around his cock all the time.

Lately, Brian was feeling the need... this growing urge to simply have a minute or two to breathe. Breathe without complications... or obligations and responsibilities he'd never asked for...

"He wanted a three-some, right?" Justin sauntered over, able to catch Brian at the end of the bed frame, trying to fan out the large comforter over the king-sized mattress. He molded his naked frame to Brian's side, hitching a leg up to rub his inner thigh over the elongated form. ".... lemme stay..." Lips bent to hide within the neck and throat, seeking skin to kiss and suckle. "... we can both fulfill a few fantasies of our own..." A wayward hand spanned five-fingers to lay over the taut belly, willing to dip lower and finish the job with a few jerking motions. "... I can drop my morning classes... you can..."

"Not..." Brian snatched for the forearm of the hand trying to drop inside his jeans, then swiveled to grab the other forearm and shake Justin gently to knock some common sense into his head. "... today." He didn't mean to speak with a curt, hurtful tone. He was reaching a level of annoyance which meant he'd probably withhold sex with Justin as a form of punishment. Futile, at best, since seeking pleasures outside their... "unconventionalism"... caused Justin to pull his own "cock tease" stunts, in front of Brian. Eye for an eye... or in this case, cock for a cock. Justin would search for his own Bottom, topping the poor soul caught in their nasty web of competition. Brian couldn't wait for that toxic disaster to show's it's face. "Get dressed." He loosened his hard grip, shoving Justin back. "... an' Get. The Fuck. O-U-T."

Justin had to lean back as Brian's venomous frustration was spewed. Now... he felt crummy, like he had disobeyed an order, pushing too many of Brian's "key" buttons. Justin wished he could learn a lesson and remember when NOT to take issues too far. God, he even wished he hadn't burned bridges with some people who could've helped him along in his, uhm... relationship(?) with Brian.

Debbie had given Justin Michael's cell phone number. Not to be cruel, but as another "emergency contact" and somewhere to reach her if other numbers didn't work. Justin had been itching to call Michael, but scared to suddenly become friendly, losing his footing high above Michael's place in Brian's life. It had certainly become easier to manipulate Michael as his adversary, still capable of liking him, to a certain extent. Justin had never had a guy as a friend, only Daphne. His youth afforded him an instant shield of **"Everyone hates me. No one likes me"** , then attacking before he could attempt a friendship. Too many years of his own form of torturous bullying had taught him to react first, never having room enough to be patient to work the moments the other way around.

"Should I even bother coming back after my classes?"

"Don't be a fuckin' Drama Queen." Brian pushed down on the deep frown lines in the center of Justin's forehead. Justin didn't even playfully hit him back, he simply let himself be touched... as if he'd never been a kid before. "If you feel like it..." Brian cupped his hands around his own hips. "... you have a key, but don't..."

"... expect you to be here." Justin rolled his eyes as he twisted around to stomp away in defeat. He was feeling his own frustration and anger boiling over as he roughly dressed in his clothes from last night. "Jesus..." He shook his head, warding off the tears pooling in his eyes. Damn, he felt so sad and pathetic, wondering... _was this how Michael felt, without the addition of sex? Was it worse or somewhat tolerable?_ If only he could KNOW the ease with which he could've walked up to Michael's door, knock and be warmly accepted inside. He knew Michael wouldn't let him leave, no matter how he felt about him, without knowing he had a place to stay. Maybe... he would offer him the couch. Or Emmett could be there. Emmett liked him... _didn't he?_

Brian had made it out of the bedroom, slowly traipsing over to where Justin was standing. He did feel despondent over making Justin feel like complete crap, but... he was young enough to let things like this roll down his back. The lucky fucker was 18yrs old, his whole life ahead of him. _What did he really have to cry about? Hurt feelings?_

Justin had no idea the hardest road to travel, the toughest mountains to climb were only beginning. He had no way of realizing true difficulties... and Brian knew he was the worst culprit. Helping the young man in his time of need was starting to look too much like dependence, hindering Justin from real growth.

"Can I have a kiss goodbye?" Justin had been throwing his drawing pads into his satchel, along with his pencils and erasers. Next he filled up his backpack with the rest of his schoolwork. Justin periodically flashed his blue eyes toward Brian... hopeful.

"Not the way you want."

"Why?"

"Why... _what?_ "

Justin let his entire body sag, going from mad, passionate euphoria rewinding back into a deep, dark depressive state. "Why do you do this to me?" _Had he actually heard a "whine" in his tonal change?  
_

"You knew how I was. I've told you countless of times how this... will be." Brian never knew what to call what he and Justin had together, surely wasn't anything he'd ever seen before or thought he'd have in his own life. "I can't instantly change with the magic of our fucking." He sprinkled his fingertips around Justin's head, like fairy dust in the air. The mouth hadn't even cracked a light smile. So somber, so serious... for someone so young.

"YOU changed me." Justin's frantic heart nearly choked him dead solid.

"Which is the way it's supposed to happen. I've been where you are. Don't think I don't know. Don't understand what you're feeling." Brian rubbed a hand over his jaw, caressing a cheek. "I'm older. I'm done changing."

Justin quickly looked up, catching Brian's features moving into some strange action. Like he didn't believe his own bullshit. "... except..."

"Hmm?"

"For... HIM. You'd change for Michael."

Brian squinted his eyes, wondering how the hell Justin came up with that crap. "Michael... is none of your concern."

"He was here before me." Justin could hear his voice actually sound as if he was talking about some bratty younger brother, vying for parental love.

"This isn't a race... or a competition to rival my affections. It's Life." Brian cupped an entire palm around Justin's shoulder joint. "If you're in this... with me, attempting to cross some kind of 'finish line'... win some prize... or gain favor... then you've already lost..."

"I have strong feelings for you." There... Justin had opened THAT particular scary "door". Mentioning the word "love" would freak Brian out completely.

Brian knew that. It had been inevitable. Brian had deep feelings for the man who'd taken his own virginity, too. "Built on... _what_ , exactly?"

"Brian, please..."

"Begging only makes me kick you out sooner." Brian opened one arm from his side. "Now... come give me a kiss, on the cheek... an' walk away..."

Justin wanted to say something, badly, but the "look" Brian was giving him stopped him cold. Listening to Brian would be the best measure to take right now. Conversations and reasons, with good explanations were for later... when they had precious time alone, if they weren't taking it all up with... other interests...

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael couldn't wait outside any longer, freezing his ass off, waiting for Justin to exit the front door of the building. He used the key Brian had made for him once he'd started leasing the Loft. Michael blew into his hands, rubbing them together to generate warmth. Then he moseyed on over to sit down on the second set of stairs, watching to see when the metal door slid open.

The moment the ball-bearings on the track sounded, Michael scurried to hide, waiting to see how Justin was going to leave. _Elevator or stairs?_ That problem was cleared as he heard the buzz, then the chug-a-lug of the box heading up. Michael sighed with some grateful relief, as he slowly climbed the staircase. He could hear the mutterings of some random dialogue, not really clear-headed enough to listen too closely. Plus, he didn't really care to know what they were discussing, possibly didn't pertain to a much profound book of thought.

By the time Michael reached the third step from the landing, he noticed Brian was standing guard at the Loft door, watching Justin descend. Strange thing was... Brian had caught sight of Michael making his way up, so he put a hand in the air, behind his back to tell Michael to pause, until Justin was completely out of eye, and ear, shot.

Once the elevator was disappearing to a safe level, Brian gestured with his head for Michael to climb the rest of the way, but to be quiet about his footfalls. He turned to stand inside the Loft, hand on the door handle to close the paneling once Michael had crossed over the threshold. Brian shut the door on a solid slam, not setting the locks.

Michael eyed Brian wandering over to switch down the kitchen lights. "What..." Then he saw Brian trek, tip toeing, across the floor toward the last window along the wall. "... are you doing?" Michael slowly trailed in Brian's footsteps, wanting to chuckle because Brian looked like "Elmer Fudd" hunting "wabbits".

Brian squatted near the window's sill, peeking his head over the ledge. "I'm getting the feeling..." He nodded his head, coming back down to sit on the floor, fixing the curtains closed. "... Justin won't drive away. He'll sit there, waiting for a glimpse of my..." Brian made sure to add "air quotes". "... 'mysterious lover'..."

"Is there?"

"What?"

"A mysterious lover?"

"Nope." Brian threw a hand over toward Michael, smiling happily.

" ***I***... AM the mysterious lover?" Michael clapped his hands, gleefully, bolting over to Brian's side, bending low to sneak a peek with Brian. "This seems..." He shook his head sadly. "... petty and cruel..." Michael stood upright, almost making himself visible in the windows. He started giggling when Brian tugged him down to the floor, like they were hiding in an underground trench, from "the enemy". "Brian... lemme go." Michael had strength, except when he chuckled, which he was doing a lot of because he wasn't seated very well on the floor. Especially when Brian had a hold of the collar of his jacket and was yanking on him, afraid he'd pop his head in view again. "I'll jus'... I'll tell him the truth, is all." He could see the doubt fluctuate through Brian's eyes. "Honest." He put up the Boy Scout sign of honor, but Brian was hitting a "very fuckin' doubtful" phase. Michael turned his middle finger upward to flick Brian off.

Brian released Michael's jacket fabric. "Nice, Mikey. Real tasteful." He sat down Indian style, on his own floor. "Mind telling me what's got you in a snit?" This would be a good time, as any, to bring up this subject, since it was forefront.

"... not in a snit." Michael mumbled, chin to his chest, as he let his body go fully limp on the rug in front of the entertainment center. If he was going to be "thislow" to the ground, he may as well lay on the ground.

"Oh... oh-kaaay." Brian looked up at the high ceilings. "So that wasn't you, all masterful and commanding on my cell phone, in my ear?"

Michael scrunched his face. "Did I sound really pushy... an' annoying?"

"Certainly NOT like you normally sound."

"Hey!" Michael held out both hands, wanting Brian to check out his Loft. "He's gone!"

Brian couldn't help but snicker, shaking his head. "Not for long. He always bounces back."

"We all do." Michael mumbled, averting his head away to look around Brian's walls from this vantage point, on the floor. "Christ... do I know the feeling well..." He rolled over to lay on his right side, bending his right arm to rest his head on, playing with the rug's fringe.

"... sooooo..." _Damn, what did Brian have to do to get Michael to spill already?_

"What?" Michael played "dumb" while not looking up at Brian. He knew what Brian wanted to know and he wished he could blatantly blurt the damn words out.

"It's nearly 5 of the a.m. variety, Michael..." Brian swiftly rearranged his body to lay like Michael was, on the rug, but he was on his stomach, facing Michael. "Isn't the Professor worried I'll corrupt you even further?" _Where was Benjamin at this hour? Riding his trike to work?_

"Ben doesn't know I'm here."

"Oh? Really?" Brian couldn't wait to hear THIS. "Where does he...?"

"Red Cape." Michael rolled over onto his own stomach, laying his head on his folded arms. "Doin' inventory... restocking shelves... building displays..."

"For real?" Brian reached out a hand to clamp down on Michael's forearm, soothing over the jacket material.

"I lied." Michael made a tiny grimace of pain.

"Did you now?' Brian scooted across the floor, venturing closer to Michael's face.

Michael didn't budge, liking the nearness of Brian's face. That easy smile of mischief. The way his hand felt hot even through the jacket fabric. "I needed... some air..." Michael knew it was a really lame excuse, but that was as simple as his predicament had gotten lately.

Brian's hand settled in the center of the arm, a few fingers reaching out to poke at his face, smoothing over the lips and the cheeks. "... long way to come for air, Mikey..." He always loved the ease with which Michael would allow him to caress him. There would always be a safety net of seeking whatever Brian wanted, with no fear of "performance", like with other men. It appeared as if Michael soaked in everything, closing his eyes periodically to take deep sighs and shoot wistful looks his way. Something was... hinky... making Brian feel on slight "alert".

Michael exhaled a long breath out of his nostrils, shutting his lids as if he was sleepy. "The world... needs to stop spinnin' an' tumblin'... literally and figuratively."

"Uh-Oh..." Brian didn't know why, but his hand went to brush over the raven black locks, causing Michael to bury his face in his arms. "What did Benji do now?"

"... nuthin'..."

"Nothing?" Brian doubted THAT very much.

"He's perfect." Michael stated the comment almost on the verge of tears. Like maybe HE wasn't perfect, to be well-matched with Ben.

Brian's fingers dug deeper, finding their way in between the strands, felt like pure silk to his bare skin. "Obviously." He rolled his eyes, not truly impressed by Benjamin Bruckner. Hadn't been at the Miami White Party 2yrs ago and still wasn't. Pretty to look at, but harder to touch, truthfully. And by "touch" he didn't mean it in literal form. "You left your bed..." Brian was creeping closer to Michael's ear lobe. "... with him in it, I'm expecting..." He always somehow knew whenever Michael had fucked another man. Could be the strange scents wafting off him, the way he carried himself, in walking and such... and just a flash of his eyes, that faint hint of a grin. Brian just sensed when Michael had been given some kind of wonderful pleasure. _So WHY the fuck was he here?_ "... he's either an utter idiot or... you're..."

Michael lifted his head, but he did more than that, he actually situated his body to sit upright. "It's me."

Brian had been a little spooked by Michael's sudden movements, which had dislodged their connection. _Had he done something wrong to turn Michael off his touch?_ "What's you?"

"I'm not..." Michael coughed, clearing his throat. "... handling 'perfection' well..." Wow... that even wounded lame when he said it out loud.

Brian simply raised himself off his torso, leaning on his right hand, the rest of his body was still stretched out. "I hear they say it's overrated."

"Actually... it's better than I could've ever hoped for."

"... and you're anticipating the anvil dropping on you soon..." Brian could pick that problem out in the dark, which they almost were in with only the light from the kitchen, above the stove on. There was only a bluish hue radiating from outside. Brian's eyes caught Michael's features, wondering what was going on in that mind of his, thinking so constantly about not only himself, but everyone else.

"I'm crazy like I think I sound, right?" Michael tried not to look directly at Brian, not wanting to catch those hazel eyes looking at him with sadness. "He's everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend..."

"... but..."

"Perfection has opportunity for major failures... being not-so-perfect anymore. I'm not sure I wanna be there for the fallout."

"So dump him." Of course Brian could say that, he wasn't in love with Ben.

"Wish it were that easy."

"No. You're right. Let's wait four more years when you two have actually built a life together... possibly marriage... a home of your very own... an' maybe a kid or two... an' let's make you two crazy hipsters have to climb some tough hurdles in order to stay together... AND THEN... let's dump him."

Michael couldn't help bursting out with a chuckle. "How can you be so blasé about everything, Brian?"

"Because it IS easy, Michael. It's a lot less complicated than you think."

"You miss me." Michael stood to his feet, tired of being on the cold floor. Plus, Justin should be gone by now. If not, too bad.

Brian climbed off the floor, as well, following Michael. "No I don't. I've been able to find some pretty nifty hobbies I like."

Michael knew Brian was lying, but it was cute to hear. "You said so yourself... you're afraid of me fallin' in love. With him... Ben."

Brian leaned his hip on the couch backing. "I don't own you, Michael. You're free to do WHAT, and WHOM, -ever you want. I don't even want to possess you for my very own." He placed his hand over an "imaginary" doll-head and pet it in the air, like it was precious.

"You have some strange idea that me loving him means less for you." Michael knew that one hit too close to home, almost.

"... Michael..."

"I love you both." Michael didn't know how often he had to keep telling them both this point. "Don't you see?"

"Equally?" Brian crossed one arm over his chest, grabbing onto his biceps.

"No." Michael wrinkled his brow in concern. "I'm just getting to know Ben. I've known you all my life, practically."

"So..." Brian lowered his eyes to the floor, avoiding Michael's quizzical gaze. "... there shouldn't be a problem, should there be?"

"No." Michael shook his head, wishing he could let go of some of his thoughts in his head. "No there isn't. Not really." It was true. Most of what was worrying and plaguing him was things he was building on in his mind.

"Michael..." Brian pushed off the couch, walking toward Michael's still form in the middle of the floor. "... Mikey..." He said it soft enough to cause him to perk his head upward.

"I love you..." Michael simply spilled the beans right then and there. No qualms. No hidden truths. "I do."

Brian grabbed onto Michael's dangling left arm. "I know." Some days he knew, some days he wasn't sure. Right now, looking down into those mesmerizing brown eyes, deepening to a coal black, he could see it very plainly, like the nose on his face.

"Do you? Are you sure? Because sometimes... you act like you don't know an'... you doubt me or my sincerity if I DO happen to tell You." Michael watched Brian dip his head, moving his neck around. "Me falling for Ben... does it make you jealous? Wanting me for yourself?" He was causing Brian to back a few inches away.

"Michael..." Brian stuck his hands out to ward off an approach, not sure he'd be able to withstand Michael's nearness, while he said these words.

"I love you."

"... stop..." Brian didn't know why it was making him ache so much to hear this now. Maybe because... even after all this time, maybe Ben DID have a right to be pissy with him. Michael could never truly, fully... give away his heart. "You don't..." He was shaking his head to not disagree, but for Michael not to lay himself down at his feet.

Michael reached up to grab both sides of Brian's head, palms over the ears. "I. Love. You. Brian Kinney." 

Brian squinted his eyes at Michael's sad attempt to get him to DO something, _but what?_ His feeble mind was unable to grasp. "YOU... are a... certifiable... nutcase... Michael Novotny." He released a trademark smirk. Normally it would've gotten a happier response then the solemn look passing over Michael's features. "Whoa! Little Buddy!! Where do you think you're heading?" If Brian hadn't grabbed for the back of Michael's jacket collar, he would have been halfway out the door.

Michael worked himself out of his own jacket, spinning out of Brian's clutches. He reached up to smooth his unkempt hair. "You think I'm just a child. Like Ma. Perpetually stuck at the age of ten." Michael attempted to snatch his jacket back, but Brian held it out of his reach, tucked safely in the space between his lumbar spine and waistband. "Life will never be serious for me. Punch line for every joke. A slight blush for every tease." He didn't even feel like being his *usual* playful self, of trying to retrieve his coat. Michael heaved a huge sigh, shoulders sagging. "I'm tired, Brian. I can't continue this if you won't look at me as your equal... in every way. I stopped being 14 nearly 20yrs ago. I'm a full-grown man, now." His watchful eyes darted up and down, pondering what Brian could be thinking of him right now. "In case you haven't noticed." Michael licked his lips, frustrated that he even had to voice this right now, when all he wanted to do was pounce on Brian. Brown eyes gazed up, completely curious and inquisitive... wondrous and hopeful. "Why won't you see that about me? What do I have to do to make you take notice of me?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Not. Bullshit." Brian wiped a hand over his mouth. "You're wrong, Michael... I DO see."

"... more bullshit." Michael flinched away as Brian put out a hand toward him.

"What is going on?!" Then it suddenly dawned on Brian what could be bothering Michael. "All you have to do is ask, Mikey... an' I'll answer you..."

"Again... with the bullshit. You just don't quit, do you?" Michael shut his eyes as he tried to find where his courage had gone. _Was he expecting too much?_ "An'... please, can we refrain from this whole 'MIKEY' business? At least, until we've concluded that we're both maturing, surpassing this 'cute' nickname stage."

Hands on his jean-clad hips, Brian stared Michael down. "Done." Something else was laying underneath the inner rage boiling inside. He became more determined to keep Michael close by, if only to find out what had worked him into this "fit". "Someone has pissed you off in a major way. Can't possibly be me or else why would you be here... trying to get in my pants. Seeing you, like this, I'm not sure that 'angry sex' is something we should get into, right off the bat. Call me kookie..." Brian turned his head away, then brought his gaze back up to stare deeply into Michael's face. "Unless.... that masochistic kind of kink is your cup of tea?"

Michael averted his gaze down Brian's mode of dress... or undress, finally absorbing the total package. "You aren't wearing any underwear... are you?"

"Nope... sorry. After all, Justin was here a few hours... an' I'm fairly talented at sex, but not THAT good."

 _"Oh! Holy Christ!"_ Michael placed his hands over his eyes. _"What the fuck am I doing?! I'm here..."_ Hands over his temples, he spoke as if he were all alone. _"... but I'm not here. Why the hell am I here? What the fuck do I think I'm doing?"  
_

"Michael..."

"Huh?'

"You do realize... I can hear you?" Crossing arms over his bare chest, Brian watched his best friend pace before him, as if intently watching two tennis pros volley the ball over the net. "Mr. Novotny?" He slowly raised his hand, not sure who... or what, was taking possession of Michael's mind and body.

"... shit..." Michael grumbled to himself. "... what?"

"I can answer ONE of your questions, if you allow comments from the entire class."

"Find this funny?" Michael squinted his eyes at Brian. "You find me utterly ridiculous? A fuckin' joke?"

Brian sniffled out a deep chuckle, slightly offended. "That's brilliant! Storm into MY home... chase away MY boyfriend... an' then spew some vile, hurtful resentment. At ME?! For what?!" He paced quickly toward Michael, sending him a few steps backward. "What the fuck do you want from me?!"

"I think..." Michael rolled his shoulders, as if squaring off for battle, but he was actually thinking of retreating. He spun around to head for the metal door. "... I already have my answer."

"Whoa! Hey, there." Brian beat him to the sliding paneling, blocking the exit. "Don't be too eager, beaver. Mind sharing with me what you meant?!"

"You said it." Michael turned vacant eyes toward Brian.

"Said what?"

"... out loud..."

"What?"

"... only two seconds ago."

Brian lifted a hand to stop Michael from talking. "Pretend I'm an idiot. Remind me."

"You said MY 'boyfriend', pertaining to, said blond boy wonder who just left your bed." Michael could even see the red finger marks, some scratches on bare flesh. "Not so long ago."

"Yeah? So? Isn't Bruckner still YOUR 'boyfriend'? In YOUR bed?"

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing coming here hadn't been a well-thought out plan. "Are we all that interchangeable for you?" He shook his head, stifling his laughter. "Don't answer that. I now... know what I know an'..." Michael gestured toward the wall behind Brian. "... I'm leavin'..."

"No." Brian adamantly shook his head in refusal to let Michael go. "You aren't."

"Yes. I am." Michael tried to move forward, but Brian stepped in his pathway.

They did this for several seconds, Brian countering Michael's every move, sending him into the center of the Loft.

Brian barely had his fingers on Michael's chest as he pushed him further into the room. "I dare you."

"Brian..." Michael quickly became pale, a little woozy. A hand went to his forehead, squeezing tight as he sucked in hurried air.

"Mich-... Mikey..." With unfettered swiftness, Brian caught Michael over his arm, drawing him close, back to his front. "... what the hell?!" He'd never known Michael to be one to faint and that's what looked to be happening at the moment.

"I don' feel so good, Brian..." Michael made a dry, retching sound, doubling over in mild pain. "Lord... I think I'm gonna be sick..." He ferociously yanked himself out of Brian's hold, making a mad dash toward the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Brian frantically trailed Michael's quick pacing, shooting back when the door slammed shut. He was trying the knob, unable to open it. "Michael... let me in..." Brian used his fist to bang on the paneling.

"NO!" Michael's reply was followed by something akin to entire stomach contents ending up in the toilet water. "... oh... gawd..." He moaned, feeling as if this would be such a fitting ending to his perpetual sucky, much-too-eventful evening.

"Michael! Open this door!"

One or two more dry heaves, but upon the third intake of breath, Michael upchucked the rest of whatever he'd eaten tonight into the bowl. "... kinda busy..."

"Christ, Mikey!! Don't be stupid! I can always get a key!"

"DO IT! ... be... my... guest..." Michael dragged himself over to the sink, hunched over, turning the water on as he began to rinse out his mouth. He'd already blown his nose three or four times with a handful of 3-ply toilet paper. Michael found toothpaste and washed his stinging mouth out with the minty gel, using his finger, not Brian's own toothbrush. He wasn't THAT angry.

"That's not necessary, unless it's an emergency. Are you on fire? Choking? I know CPR... maybe..." Brian could only hear soft snickers. "I DO have a key. It's not a simple threat. I've just misplaced it... somewhere." He touched the door paneling with a little more tenderness then he'd shown before. "... c'mon, Michael... let me in... or... least let me know you're alright."

"I'm fine."

"Good... 'cause pretty soon I'll have to take one mean piss an'... the kitchen sink is a little too high for me to aim..."

The door unlocked, but didn't open.

Brian grabbed the knob, turning slowly, pushing open the wooden frame. The shower door closed with a clank. Brian spanned his arms between the sides of the door molding. "Hellooo! Is anybody...?" He was about to look for Michael's hiding place, when he heard the shower turn on. The tiled bathroom floor was littered with Michael's clothes. Piece by piece, taken off on the way into the shower. Brian picked up the items, placing them on the toilet seat lid. As he twisted in his bare feet, Brian noticed Michael had rigged the toilet brush to bar him from entering. Yanking on the handle, Brian sighed heavily. "What... is your fuckin' problem, Novotny?!"

Michael was completely under the shower's spray, letting water cascade over every nook and crevice, arching his back to the glass as he ignored Brian and soaped his naked frame, wetting his hair.

Brian prowled, casing the glass wall of the tiny cubicle, trying to get a peek at Michael's cock. Shit! Michael must have had one eye glued to him, he continued to swiftly situated himself to hide his front from view. "A little late to be modest, Mikey, huh?" Brian tucked his hands under his armpits, feet spread apart to contemplate how to get inside.

"Too bad..." Michael yelled over the water spray. "... I'm not coming out until you leave."

"You've got some nerve. Not callin' me for days... just showin' up, out of the blue... kickin' Justin out... getting me to admit things I never would, normally, say to another human being..." Brian spoke loudly so he could be heard through the glass. He spotted a robe and towel he could toss to Michael as a peace offering. When Brian turned back to the shower wall, he was suddenly spooked by a drenched Michael facing him, holding a loofa sponge over his groin area. "Mich-... why are you...?'

"Why am I being this way? Think about it. You're a fairly intelligent person, been around the block more than once." Michael gave Brian a *glare* while a laugh was sputtered out. "Don't laugh. I've never cared about your past sexual history with other men. I'm willing to look beyond the 'bad boy' reputation." He glanced down, squishing his bare feet in the puddles on the tile in the shower stall. "I wish you had the courage to do the same for me."

"You don't have a 'bad boy' bone in your body, Michael." Brian teased, leaning both forearms over the glass; the towel in one hand, the robe in the other.

"That's not my point." Michael shook his head, causing his sleeked-back strands to loosen and hang over his brow, as he ventured down to the edge of the shower cubicle. He looked as if he were in jail, behind bars.

"What IS your point, then?" Folding the material of the robe over the towel-holding arm, Brian paced along with Michael.

"You don't *see*... ME!... ever... as a sexy Bad Boy..."

Brian let his forehead fall on the surface of the steamy glass. "I DO..." He had to clear his throat from the crackle, the breaking of nerves and heightened sensation of having released a pretty great orgasm a few hours or so ago, with the image of the very man standing before him - sans glass wall between them. "... think you're sexy..." They'd had this conversation before, only it pertained to another moment in their past.

Michael could hear the remains of a _ **"... but..."**_ in there. "... bullshit..." He didn't know why he was being so pissy tonight. Could have something to do what he'd left only hours ago. "Why am I not convinced? Sayin' it... an' bein' it... are two different things."

"Mikey..." Brian closed his lids, shaking his head in a modicum of annoyance.

"... POINT one - Bad Boys are NEVER referred to by their childhood nicknames. _**Mikey**_... **_Ricky_**... _**Nicky**_... _**Donnie**_... or **_Bobbie_**. Maybe Johnny, if he's snazzy-cool enough. But no one by those names has opened a can of whoop-ass I'm aware of."

"POINT taken, Michael." Brian stressed Michael's correct first name with a genuine smile on his lips.

"... POINT two - Bad Boys are ALWAYS considered to be 'fuckable' while doing a minimal amount of daily activity. Simple things." Michael started from Brian's spread bare feet, trailing heavily lidded brown eyes up the denim covered legs to the low riding waist on the thin hips. "Sexuality is heightened by just a hint of eroticism." He licked his lips, pausing his gaze at the inward belly button, the light spattering of dark brown hair trailing from pubic area to mid-sternum, lightly sprayed over dark pink pert nipples. "I can name plenty of things I watch YOU do that leave me breathless..." Michael had always been mesmerized by Brian's elongated neck, the blue veins throbbing beneath pale doe soft skin. "... and hard as hell." Brown eyes finally met hazel ones. A black eyebrow was raised in calm inquiry. "Can you name ONE activity I do... or a mannerism I have... that gets your rocks off?"

Brian raised his own curious eyebrow. "... only one..." He bit the inside of his cheek, never knowing Michael's intent gaze to be so drawn to him. Must be the after effects of the alcohol buzz. Brian was really going to have a difficult time narrowing this down.

Michael shrugged one shoulder, quirking his lips into a smile on one side of his mouth. "... or how ever many you deem necessary to tell me about." He used his chin to gesture toward Brian's hand. "Throw me the towel."

Brian slowly shook his head in disagreement. "Come out and get it."

Michael thought he'd try. "... the robe..."

Again, Brian shook his head in decline. "Sorry." He really didn't sound regretful at all.

"Promise me..." Michael began, settling one forearm on the glass, but he couldn't speak any further.

"... what?" Brian was curious to Michael predicament. He seemed to be over-thinking things a lot.

"... nah... nothing... never mind..." Michael replaced the loofa sponge on the shelf, then began to dislodge the toilet brush, opening the door and stepping out of the shower stall. When he twisted around to ask Brian for the towel, Brian was already standing there, arms wide open with the huge terry cloth material for him to walk into. Michael had been worried that Brian would "look" at him, admiring his cock and balls, but he was amazed to find Brian's eyes never wavered from his face. He backed into the towel, allowing Brian to envelop him in the dry fabric.

Brian thought about simply wrapping the towel about Michael, then walking away, but there was something about this moment that wouldn't let him be that cold-hearted. Michael had snatched the ends of the towel's hem, shivering under the material, so Brian rubbed his hands up and down the arms, back and chest buried underneath to send out some warmth. Brian found a spot, between Michael's neck and shoulder, where he could rest his chin and speak into Michael's ear. "... tell me what's wrong. I wanna help you, Michael." He sincerely meant the words, never knowing a truer feeling then being here for Michael, despite other emotions warring inside him.

Michel let out a forced laugh, which didn't sound happy at all, more sorrow-filled than anything. "I don't want my life anymore."

Brian went a bit blank, wondering what the hell Michael could mean. "Okay... can you go into more detail?" _Had something happened tonight that flipped Michael's "switch", made him reconsider everything he'd done up until now? Was Brian one of those moments he'd like to return, regretting ever meeting him?_

"I've taken such pains to show Ben I'm committed to US... our relationship, but I..."

"... am having second thoughts about your second thoughts."

"I'm not sure I'm enough for him."

"You're enough for me."

Michael swiveled to face Brian, having to lean back when he realized how close Brian was to him.

Both in their bare feet, Brian lost an inch or more in height, Michael remained much the same. When he lifted his gaze, brown eyes paused on Brian's lips, watching them move, breaking open to breath, to make a face, grimace in a certain discomfort or emotion. Michael wanted to kiss them, allow those lips to meet his. Instead, he reached up with one hand, caressing fingertips over the delectable mouth. "... never about you..." Michael's body went a little spastic to see the lips part, as if Brian wanted much the same from him.

"... Michael..."

Michael's grip, on both sides of the towel hem, loosened, causing half the material to fall off Michael's naked form. It was purely accidental, not intentional, meant to drive Brian insane with desire.

Brian had wanted to be chivalrous, deftly catch the fabric of the towel in his hand, sweeping it back around. But once his arm went across Michael's back, touching bare skin, bringing chest to chest, he had to pause and swallow hard. The sensation of heat, coupled with the stiffness poking him, even through the thick layer of denim, nearly sent Brian into overdrive. His body wanted what it could feel, not caring who it was in his arms. "Go..." Damn! _Had his voice actually choked, cracking like a pubescent teenager?_ "... go... lay down on the bed... we'll talk..." He added the action of cupping the sides of Michael's face, thumbs playfully parting the lips. Brian sent hazel eyes to look over Michael's features, not really having seen the shadows under the eyes, until this minute. "Have you been sleeping well? Or at all?" He didn't know why that bothered him more than anything.

"Sometimes. Other times, like tonight **_(_** _today_ ** _)_** , I get restless. I can, usually, fall back asleep often..." Michael didn't even want to mention where Ben was right now. He felt guilt enough already for the way he was acting or wanted to act.

"... just not this time..."

"... maybe if I were alone..." Michael mumbled, his head falling forward to bump Brian's chin and jaw. "... or with you..."

Brian nodded his head in understanding. Eerie, but strangely not, was that he discovered they were going through the same ordeal. Brian having "second thoughts" about what he'd started with Justin. More importantly, what he was turning the young man into, squandering such potential.

Michael was relieved that Brian was on the same wavelength as him. He quietly slipped out of the rest of the towel, walking out of Brian's one arm embrace. The material fell to the tiled floor. Michael traced a lone hand down Brian's back, exiting the bathroom.

Brian felt his body shiver, his spine tingle, certainly his dick waking up again. Never failed to get him horny, the way Michael would caress him tenderly. He folded the towel, draping it off the rack to dry, then he hung the robe back on the door.

The portion of time apart gave them both a few minutes to breathe, to see if they wanted to continue this moment. So far, Brian and Michael felt comfortable with having gotten some thoughts of their chests. Neither of them appeared to want to stop or this time to never end.

Brian shut off the bathroom light, wandering over to the right side of the bed. Michael was laying above the covers, on his back, hands and arms at his sides. For some reason, Brian was able to stop his eyes from wandering too far down Michael's naked body. He saw the black pubic curls, then averted his eyes and head, looking shy or bashful.

Michael found the action endearing, proof to him that this never had been "just sex" between them. Or getting into Michael's pants for a quick thrill. He found himself slinking over to where Brian was, no longer on the left side.

Brian undid the button fly, sliding the jeans in reverse, off his body. He still had to be cautious about the sensitive length. This time because it was becoming stiffer by every intensely charged minute. Brian sat down on the mattress, sliding and kicking off the denim. Behind him, Brian could feel Michael approach his back. He secretly hoped for one of their trademark hugs-from-behind, he really needed that calm reassurance, to know he wasn't going too far to scare Michael away.

Michael did send his left arm around Brian's upper torso, but when he pressed his whole front concaved to Brian's back, they both came to the conclusion there was no coming back. No simple "do over", if they didn't get this right.

Brian turned within Michael's hold, climbing onto the mattress, on both knees. One hand shaped down Michael's spine, shaping over his buttocks, fitting under he ass cheek to heft Michael to stand on his own knees.

They didn't kiss, they nudged faces, letting their heads fall into necks and brows resting on shoulders. If one was nuzzling, lighting kissing the other's skin, the one being kissed would hold the hair of the kisser, attempting to hold steady without tugging too hard, pulling a few strands out. It's not that they weren't tempted to lock lips. THAT desire need was staring them directly in the face, but they knew kissing one another would take them to a level they wouldn't be prepared for. This was perfect... what they were doing right now to each other. 

Brian finally placed two arms secure about Michael, which meant two hands were molding and squeezing his backside, spreading the cheeks apart. Brian liked doing the move, because it would cause Michael to grind faster, harder, against him, then push backward into his palms. Brian knew Michael would be a responsive Bottom, being such a natural giving person. He was just never aware how much control Michael could gain over his Top.

Their cocks merged, meshing, poking and prodding each other, then slip-sliding between their bodies.

Brian groaned, arching his back when Michael bit down on his neck and suckled, heading down to give the same attention to his nipples. He forcibly grabbed Michael's outer thighs, opening them wider as he pushed them to land on Michael's back.

Michael instinctively wrapped his legs around Brian's waist, allowing Brian full access to his puckered entrance.

The cock tip slid, then poked around the perineum and almost inserted in the anus, as Brian attempted to reorganize his bottom, shaking his head to clear a haziness.

"... yes..." Michael wanted Brian bad enough not to care what was going on.

"... oh, gawd..." Brian wanted Michael bad enough to care too much about what they were about to do. He kept shaking his head, the more Michael kept bumping their bodies. "... please..." Brian wanted this erotic torture to be over with. To wish he didn't love Michael to the point where causing HIM pain was nearly unbearable, either through sex, itself or its aftermath of a breaking heart.

"I know..." Michael rubbed a hand over Brian's jaw.

"I wanna stop, but... I can't..."

"It's okay. I want it, too."

"... we need lube and condoms..."

"... no... not really..."

"... jesus, Michael..." Brian under-cupped Michael's chin, leaning his brow on Michael's furrowing forehead. "... don't do this... I can't..." Lips started kissing beside his eyes, reigning down his face, fingers combing through his hair. "... we shouldn't..."

Michael weakly fell back, his head lost in the middle of bunched blankets and comforter. "For once... I wanna NOT think about sex... plannin' ahead... being able to give into my partner, whenever I feel the need for him..." He was rubbing, soothing his hands up and down Brian's thighs. "... the spontaneous encounters that used to fill my nights when I'd lose you to some random fuck..."

"Don't..." Brian nestled his cheek against Michael's. "... christ, don't talk like that. You haven't lost me... won't ever happen..." He didn't know how he knew but that fact had never been more clear until now, staring down into warm brown eyes, feeling the soft lips along his hairline, hot breath over his already hot skin.

They were able to move their same positions to the head of the bed. Michael was now laying on his back, with pillows behind him. Brian was able to reach onto the nightstand for the lube, squirting a generous amount on his cock, then coating his fingers.

Michael caressed the back of his hand over Brian's abdomen, watching the portion of flesh quiver at his mere touch. He reached out with both hands to latch onto Brian's jutting hip bones, then the upper curves of his ample cheeks.

Brian slowly inserted his fingers, at different intervals, increasing and decreasing the motion of his arm. Michael arced off the bed, pushing his head into the pillows, as he worked his body onto Brian's hand. Brian leaned over, fists panted on either side of Michael's form, hovering and guiding himself to push past Michael's sphincter.

They both sucked in air at the impact; Brian feeling the tightness of Michael's anal walls, Michael feel the thickness fill his rectum and massage his prostate. They both rolled their hips, thrusting hard. They canted and grinded their hips into a synchronized pacing. At one point, Brian grew weakened, falling onto Michael's body, never breaking momentum. They meshed foreheads, sharing air, then their gazes caught one another and their quickened thrusting slowed down to a gentle pounding of their bodies merging.

Michael initiated the first kiss, by pecking a trail from temple to the corner of Brian's mouth. Brian could no longer stand the anticipation and opened his lips to accept Michael's rough invasion. They kissed and munched, mouths smacking and heads twisting to find different positions, their tongues met and played, silly little grins spreading over their lips. It almost seemed ridiculous to them, at the same time, how long they had waited for this very minute... and how it was coming true for both of them, being everything they wanted and more.

Michael felt his body jerk with intensity, his instinct to clench his muscles. As Michael was in the midst of his orgasms, Brian pulled out, settling his cock together with Michael's length on the bare pubic and pelvic bone. Though they were no longer connected, they continued to gyrate as one, until the last drop of semen was spent from both men.

Both of them deeply breathing, chuckling softly as chests expanded for lung capacity and air... Brian slumped on top of Michael, burying his face in the right shoulder, cupping the biceps and shoulder joint.

"Sorry..." Brian knew he'd been rougher than he wanted to be with Michael. "... Did I hurt you?" Most men didn't want his weight on them after they came. The way Michael was holding him, with both arms around him and his head, filtering through his moist locks and spanning over his wet back, Brian knew he was wanted, possibly even more than ever. 

"No." Michael placed a kiss to Brian's scalp, inhaling the scent of his shampoo that still coated the strands. "... an' don't be sorry. Ever." He felt the need to kiss and coddle Brian into his embrace. "You didn't talk me into something I didn't want myself."

"... still..." Brian dragged his cheek across Michael's chest, laying dead center, equal to the pert nipples, resting on the dip of the rib cage. God... he wanted to do this again, but he was spent and exhausted. Usually he'd remain stiff, ready for another round, but he'd come fairly hard with Michael. He could feel their semen sticking their bellies together.

"Yeah... I know." Michael pulled himself fully upward to lay back on the array of plushness, letting Brian's head slide down to his stomach. He'd never known such a beautiful sight to behold then Brian's face in pure contentedness, like he was one second away from being truly happy. "The world we live in awaits us." He shifted his frame to slip one leg between Brian's thighs, he curled half of his body around Brian, protectively. "I'd rather stay here, with you. Forget everything else exists." Michael began to pet through Brian's mussed hair, scratching at the hairline at the nape.

"Easy to say, more difficult to maintain."

"I'm not living in some fantasy, where I think one night with me will magically change us forever. I'm not even sure I know what I want anymore, but it's not what I had before this moment. I didn't become this way simply because of you... and what we've done."

"I think people would be shocked how much of a realist you are."

"... an' how often you keep having to lock away the dreamer inside of you..."

"I've achieved some of those far-away dreams."

"Yeah, but... do they make you happy? Do they... snuggle with you when it's cold outside? Or hug and kiss you when you've had a shitty day?"

"THAT... is why I have you..."

"Oh... joy..."

"Stay... awhile, huh?" Brian cleared his throat, wishing for this minute to last a lifetime. "I'll call Cynthia an' reschedule my day. We'll spend the morning together, even if all we do is help you catch up on some missed sleep."

"You care about me... more than you realize..."

"I do. Can't deny it. I care deeper than you even know or could fathom."

"Funny... some humans call that L-O-..."

Michael was never able to finish his tease as Brian cupped a hand around his throat and silenced him with a sound kiss to the lips.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Justin knocked, never recognizing the doorbell off to the side of the door frame.

He'd gone to Daphne's and seen her new boyfriend's car parked in front. Not a chance she'd want him there crowding her room.

Debbie was out of the question, even though she was probably up cooking by now. There was also the chance she was pulling her usual all-nighter shift at the Diner, and Justin was never too sure how to accept Vic. He didn't know if Vic liked him, liked him the way Debbie did. Vic seemed to favor Michael. Plus, yes... there were some days when Justin found Debbie annoying beyond all comprehension, wondering how Michael could've made it through life with a mother this aggressively "in your face".

And though Lindsay and Melanie were a great option, they had baby Gus. Probably up at all hours or barely catching sleep of their own. Justin, from time to time, had found them both frustrating and a bit... difficult to swallow. Sometimes they'd argue about the stupidest things, reminding him of his own parents. Then somehow Brian's name would come up, his conduct being psychoanalyzed and his character being besmirched into nothing.

Oddly, Michael was the lesser of all evils. At least he'd ignore Justin right from the start. Justin often enjoyed sharing the sex-capades he had with Brian, just to see how Michael would react. Granted, Justin would feel some guilt afterward, but there was something instantly gratifying about tearing down a man like Michael. The easy target. The most forgiving soul. And the poor, clueless fool... who could never have what Justin had... ever...

Justin knocked a second time, perturbed into making an angry face. _Had Michael seen who was at his door, through the peephole, and walked away?_ Fuck!!

Eventually the door was yanked open... a 6ft tall blond Adonis... wet, dripping... in nothing but a towel and a wide disarming, friendly smile... greeted Justin, sending him into a mild tailspin. He had to swallow before he spoke.

"Justin..." Ben swiped a hand over his moist face, sweeping back his wet locks. "... come in." He moved behind the wood paneling, one hand keeping the edges of the towel together. "Been standing there long? I heard the knocking..." He shut the door, setting the locks. "... as I turned off the shower." Ben tucked the towel around his waist, hands cupping his trim hips.

 _Can I join you?_ Justin thought Brian naked was a beautiful sight to see. He licked his dry lips, kind of wanting to lick off some of those random falling droplets off the lightly tanned flesh. "... sorry... were you able to finish?" Justin was nervous around Ben, like when he first met Brian. But he was slightly more intimidated by Ben's male beauty and the sharp, brilliant literary mind.

"Yeah... yeah I did. Thanks." Ben furrowed his brow, arms crossing over his mid-chest. "Were you supposed to meet Michael? ... 'cause he's not here..."

Justin tried not to show his instant displeasure. "He isn't?"

"No." Ben turned to venture back toward the bathroom, finishing up what he was about to do in grooming himself. "He left a little earlier to start working at the store." He placed shaving cream on his face, lathering up the liquid gel. Ben grabbed for the razor, waving Justin to come further inside, from the foyer.

Justin dropped his backpack and satchel on the floor, folding his arms over his torso and walking toward the open bathroom door. He done this a few times with Brian, simply watched him get ready for work. Never failed to get him slightly horny. Justin had figured it was because of Brian, himself, but now, with Ben standing half-naked, the thin towel covering his muscular bottom... he could feel his body react, his stomach muscles clench. "THIS early in the morning?" He swiped the sides of his mouth, almost thinking he was drooling.

"He, uh..." Ben was shaving his face by now, starting from under his chin to work into his lower jaw and cheeks. He had to release a smirk at the thoughts and images from last night. "... he closed the store early last night. I made dinner plans for us." Ben had been impressed how difficult it had been to schedule time alone with Michael, time alone even for sex. Between classes, his writing and his extra-curricular activities with some of his HIV+ groups and clubs... plus working in time at the gym... his days were eaten up half the time. Never allowing for ease with time to be a couple with his boyfriend, Michael. Ben was quite proud of what he had achieved, Michael had been impressed, as well. Or so Ben imagined.

"Ooo... how nice." Justin wasn't at all interested, he was more envious, wishing Brian would do something like THAT for him. He began to walk around the small apartment, liking the claustrophobic quaintness. Not spacious or luxurious like Brian's Loft, but enough to call the place "home". Justin wandered into the tiny kichenette, opening the fridge to look inside for contents.

Ben walked out of the bathroom, using a hand towel to wipe his face of cream. He caught sight of Justin snooping around. "Have you eaten?" Ben thought it weird that an 18yr old boy was up this early. Shit... _had Brian kicked him out of bed?_ He shouldn't chuckle, it wasn't nice.

"No." Justin slammed the door, moving to lean on the counter, eyeing Ben as he paced over toward him, the towel precariously wrapped about the trim body. "No... I haven't even showered."

"Really?" Ben seemed confused by the turn of events that had brought Justin over here. He never had thought Michael and Justin close enough, like brothers. "Well... you're more than welcome to use the shower, while I'm here." He ventured closer, having to reach over Justin's head to pull down a tall glass. Ben gestured his thumb over his shoulder. "Michael's your size. I'm sure we could find someth-..."

Justin hadn't expected Ben to wander so near to him, or to be that affected by the warmth and smell of a freshly showered male body. Jesus... he felt like touching the pecks, tweaking the nipples... just so... the way Brian liked. "Nah..." He frantically shook his head, knowing the movement sent his hair out in spikes about his head, making him look cute and adorably sexy. "Michael would have a conniption, if I borrowed his clothes." _How would he feel if Justin borrowed his "boyfriend" for one night? Maybe an hour or two... just to know?_ Justin was saddened to watch Ben draw away, moving toward the fridge to pour out something the color of cardboard and fill it inside the glass. He grimaced, walking around Ben's body, getting a whiff of his strong cologne, and heading over to pick up his backpack. "I'll wear what I have on... just change my underwear." Justin figured he'd said the comment poignantly enough to make Ben pity him, like most men would. He'd learned a few "tricks" to make men's hearts melt for him and his plights as a young gay man, newly coming out.

Ben could see through the facade of a boy attempting to "play" at being a man who enjoyed playing at being a poor defenseless, innocent "virgin". "Nonsense. C'mere..." He waved Justin to follow him, then stood at the open bedroom doorway, waiting. "I might have something for you."

Justin didn't know why he followed Ben, only to find himself grabbed by the shoulders and pushed into Michael's bedroom. He almost tripped on the piles of dirty clothes littering the carpet. "Ben, you don't have to..."

"Shut up." Ben chopped his hand through the air, not wanting to hear anymore of Justin's humbled crybaby-ing. He pointed for a seat to be taken on Michael's bed.

"Oh-kay." Justin snickered, scratching at the back of his head. He watched Ben stroll into the closet, moving around the small room as if he oddly belonged here. _How long had he and Michael been dating now? Months or simply weeks?  
_

Ben let the towel go to change into a pair of boxer briefs, then reached up into Michael's closet, high on the top shelf. He pulled down a rectangular box. "I've moved around so much, over the years..." Ben began to talk as he shuffled across the floor, kicking clothes out of his path. "... squatted in friend's apartments, lofts and condos... maybe one Penthouse..." He dropped the box onto the bed, next to Justin's body. "... I've acquired this strange collection of clothing." Ben plopped to his knees, removing the lid. "Take a look. Keep what you find that fits."

Justin turned his body to peer inside. "... whoa..." There were some pretty awesome designer clothes in there.

"Don't worry..." Ben clamped a hand on Justin's knee, shaking him gently. "... the clothes have been washed. I'm not THAT skeezy."

Justin chuckled softly, finally seeing what Michael saw in Ben. Why he couldn't help falling in love. Why he could momentarily forget about Brian. _Brian WHO?_ "... jesus..." He barely even hung out enough with Michael to get to know Ben. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Look..." Ben spread out his hands in the air. "... whatever is between You/Brian and You/Michael has no bearing on me." He touched a hand to his chest. "'Sides... I'd rather keep my opinions to myself." With that said, Ben tried to get up off his knees, but Justin was there to grab his wrist.

Justin never expected skin to feel so soft, the wrist bone and muscle to feel so thick in his grip. Ben's body was all strength and hard muscle, their wasn't a weak point to his fine shape. "You have an opinion of me already?" He blinked sharp blue eyes up at Ben.

"I know Brian..." Ben smirked, taking his arm back to his side. "... probably about as well as you know him..."

Justin hated when people made judgments on him, with Brian, just because Brian had been his "first time". "It's more than just sex with US."

"For YOU, maybe... but what about Brian?"

"I think... slowly but surely..." Justin leaned back on his hands on the bed, showing off his youthful form to Ben's eyes, tempting him to peek and gaze in wild fascination. "... I'm wearing him down."

Ben snickered, shaking his head sadly. He crossed his arms over his chest, bunching his muscles to show off his own body, in light of Justin's attempts. "I'm not sure you realize... how great an accomplishment that ISN'T."

Justin's face dropped from the easy smile. Somehow he knew he couldn't fool Ben. "He HAS feelings for me." Justin sat upright again, tucking his hands between his knees.

"Good. I'm glad you feel that way. But are they what you need, at the expense of who Brian really is?"

Justin scrunched his face up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"WHO are you actually 'getting' after you wear Brian down?" Ben cupped his chin, acting as if he was speaking to one of his students in class.

"You think I mean... I'm 'weakening' him."

"Isn't that what you want?" Ben raised a dark blond eyebrow in inquiry. "To bend him to your will an' every whim?"

"No!"

Ben chuckled softly at the quick snappish response from Justin. "Relationships should be natural, Justin... both of you giving as equally as receiving."

"I satisfy him in our bed."

"Eh, you probably do, but... what else is there after sex is said and done?"

"We go out..."

"... to Babylon. I know." Ben nodded his head in total agreement, but then rolled his eyes with a knowing grin. "I've seen you two, fucking other guys in front of each other." He cleared his throat, fanning his face. "... oh... how deceptively romantic..."

Justin couldn't NOT snicker at Ben's attempt at "flaring" like Emmett. "... we eat at the Diner together..."

"... because you WORK THERE..." Ben couldn't help laughing outright, as he scratched at the side of his nose, waiting for Justin to think up some more excuses.

Justin had to pause for a long time. His ego deflated as he frantically searched for another example. "... I watch Gus, sometimes..." This "list" was sounding dreary to his own ears.

"Foolishly hoping it gets you near, and dear, to Brian's heart, but... more than likely, it's because Melanie and Lindsay ask you."

"You hate me, don't you?" Justin pouted, sticking out his bottom lip as he grabbed the container's handles. "Just like Michael does."

"Don't pout. It's pathetic." Ben took the box away from Justin, afraid he'd feign weakness of some sort and faint or drop the box in order to gain some sympathy from him. _What... was this poor kid's problem?  
_

Justin didn't know why, but he oddly wanted to follow Ben. Ben hadn't bothered to dress more, wandering around in the pristinely white undershorts, showing off his gorgeous physic. Maybe Ben was trying to "test" Justin, like Brian sometimes did, making sure he was in the "game" for the long haul, not just wasting precious time.

Justin bounced off the mattress, taking one last glance about Michael's bedroom, thinking it truly did represent who Michael was. Half-man, half-child, which was why he'd never end up in Brian's bed. Justin was sure of it. He walked out of the bedroom and wandered into the rest of the apartment, feeling mildly comfortable with Ben around.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael DID have a spring in his step, when he'd climbed off the bus, across the street from Red Cape. Once the large vehicle pulled away, he noticed a familiar blond head gracing the front gate of his CLOSED storefront.

Jesus Christ!

Michael decided to take a random stroll, in another direction, one block North. He spent as much time wandering around the deli/market, picking up a drink and some lunch as he could before he roamed back across the busy street, to head in the direction of his business.

Justin was still there.

 _ **"Christ Almighty! This better be fuckin' good!"**_ Michael mutter to himself as he dug out his keys with one hand.

Justin finally caught sight of the black hair, bobbing and weaving around and through pedestrians on the sidewalk. He pushed off the metal gate, feet flat to the ground. As Michael approached, he began speaking with a smile spreading over his lips. "I was wondering if you'd come back. Thought you'd close the store early again."

AGAIN?!? Justin was barely ever here to figure out a "routine".

"I'm allowed to have lunch, aren't I?" Michael grumbled as he held up his plastic bag, with a Styrofoam container filled with food, and the 20ounce soda on the top.

"Yes, you can." Justin hadn't eaten since early this morning, with Ben. "Did you get enough for two?" He went dead cold when Michael squinted eyes at him, smile vanishing. _What would Michael do, knowing he had actually been inside his apartment? That he and Ben got along much better after Ben put some clothes on?_

Michael undid the padlock, making a motion for Justin to move out of the way. He let go of the gate as it rose to the top of the awning, then he walked to the front door to unlock the second set. Michael didn't even hold the glass open for Justin to gain entrance. He could care less what Justin did or didn't do, not even what he said or didn't say.

Funny... Michael had some idea he'd feel weird around Justin, if he ever slept with Brian. And "slept" was a good word to use for what they had done, once Justin left. After their first time, Michael watched Brian fall asleep in his arms, on top of him, then slowly drifted off to slumber himself. He'd been woken several hours later to find them laying on their sides, face to face, Brian staring at him, watching him sleep. They'd brought one another to orgasm again, without using sexual intercourse, and curled into each other, legs tangled, one set of hands entwined.

They woke after a full hour of sleep, talked and joked in bed until they were playful and nearly wrestling. Both of them sprinted out of bed to start getting Brian ready for work. They showered, Michael shaved Brian, then found a pair of scissors to trim a little bit of his hair on the sides and in the back. They ate a light breakfast, sitting close together on the stools at the counter, wishing they could laze the rest of the day away, like they had done the morning.

Brian had wanted to drive Michael in, but Michael refused. He didn't want some sappy sentimental "goodbye" between them. They simply parted ways outside the Loft. Neither of them making future plans or... making pronouncements that this would be a one time occurrence. Everything had been sealed with a solitary kiss and they split apart.

Michael was walking around the cashier's counter, sighing heavily when he heard the jangle of the bell above the door, seeing Justin cross the threshold. "Is there something you want to discuss? Some reason why you're here?" _Bothering me?_

Justin had been practicing what he wanted to say, but Michael's chilled attitude set him on edge. "I, uh... Debbie called me." That was the best thing he could come up with, because it was true. Justin had listened to the message a few hours ago.

"So?" _Was that IT?_ Michael wasn't impressed with Justin's communication skills. No wonder Brian was so lonely.

"... something about a 'family get-together' for Vic."

"Aaannnd?" Michael still wasn't moved to want to talk with Justin, especially not after the morning HE had.

"I like the 'dinner' idea better. But I'm not sure if we want privacy or..." Justin could see the dead pan glare of Michael's features, forcing him to come up with a better excuse to being here.

"... well, ***I*** like the afternoon bar-b-que, myself." Michael shrugged one shoulder, snickering devilishly. "But then what do I know. It's only MY family." He turned on his computer, moving to switch on the overhead lights to the store's main floor.

Justin stood in the center of the hardwood floor, crossing his arms over his chest. He continued on with his talking as if he couldn't read Michael's displeasure at him even showing his face. "... the dinner doesn't HAVE to be at a restaurant... unless you wanna give Debbie a rest. It can be... at Mel and Linds's place... if... everyone brings..."

Michael wandered back to the front door, turning the CLOSED sign to OPEN, then fixed some cardboard displays to face customers as they walked through. "Shouldn't you be sayin' this to my mother?" He ventured across the floor to the back office as he spoke. "I really could care less to hear your versions of Party Theory 101..." Once he was inside the backroom, Michael squatted at the safe on the floor, fiddling with the combination. Money bags in hand, he exited the backroom to climb behind the cash register. "Anything else?" He set the bag on the counter, taking off his jacket to hang on a nearby hook along the wall behind him.

Justin blinked his eyes slowly, inhaling a deep breath. He really should go, just leave, not even bother, but... He opened his eyes to catch Michael unzippering the money bag and filling the drawer. Justin almost had a heart attack, his throat clogging with shock. And it was all because of what Michael had on as his shirt, with his usual jeans and sneaker-boots.

It looked... well, it was one of Brian's. _Why was Michael wearing one of Brian's shirts?_

Justin bit back his anger, clearing his throat.

"Justin?"

"... whut...?"

"Is that it?" Michael held one hand, palm up, for another explanation. "If so, why are you still here?"

Justin stiffened his spine, standing straight and tall. There was no way he'd show defeat to Michael's eyes or leave. Not now. "I got an hour or so to kill, before my next class." He motioned his hand over to the private corner in Michael's store. "Mind if I chill here and study? Or do some drawings?" Justin hooked his thumbs into the pants belt loopholes.

"Don't care what you do. Just don't touch anything and... don't pester my customers..." Michael didn't think this situation made any god-damn sense, but it wasn't HIS time to waste. Justin could've done most of this discussion over the phone. And using this ** _"I Have Time To Kill"_** excuse was lame, at best. There must be something else driving him to stick around.

Michael had been wandering back and forth, from the backroom to the front. He checked in new inventory, while ringing up sales as they trickled in.

Justin had made a decision. He didn't know what would become of it, but he had to try. It was his only mode of defense. He meandered over, curious to what was being piled on the counter as Michael typed into the computer and crossed off numbers and titles off his clipboard. Justin had never really watched Michael at work here, running his business by himself. If he didn't hold such animosity toward Michael, he'd actually admire him. "Do you need some help with these?" Justin pointed to a stack of comics near his hand.

Michael had been bent over, searching under the counter for his pencil sharpener. Last time he'd looked, Justin had been laying on the couch cushions, sketching away. He had kept to himself, reading one of his class manuals, then drawing on his sketch pad. At one point, Justin had been relaxed so much he'd taken off his mossy green hooded sweatshirt and appeared to look as if he'd take a nap.

Now that Justin was up close and personal... Michael had the ability to see a few things clearer.

Justin was wearing a top and a pair of pants Michael had seen before. As he explained to Justin where specific titles belonged, on what racks, he watched the young man walk away. Michael's eyes squinted and his mind wandered. He knew the clothes, because the fabrics were expensive and hard to launder. He had washed an entire load of mix-matched laundry for Ben once... and he... wait...  
 __

 _Why would Justin have-?_

 _What... The Fuck?!?_

This day had gone from annoying to boring to downright interesting in ten seconds flat.  
 __

 _Exactly WHAT did this mean?_

Justin sauntered back over, pulling up the pants that had fallen a little off his hips. "Michael..." He set the stack down for a few minutes. "... do you have a stool or a step ladder I could use?" Justin thought he could reach the high rack, but not the case.

"Sure." Michael used his thumb, in hitch-hiker mode, to point toward the backroom's door. "In there. Be my guest."

Justin bowed graciously, in jest, biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. "An' so I shall, Mikey... so I shall..."

Brown eyes glared at blue as they crossed by and winked suspiciously...

 **~*~*~*~*~The End...**


End file.
